


I Used to Have a Heart

by ablankshot



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 00:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6064441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ablankshot/pseuds/ablankshot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A "what if" AU where the Director uses the brain scan of a fallen soldier for his A.I. project instead of his own. </p>
<p>Will update tags as chapters are written.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue: Microsoft Patents Ones, Zeroes

“Got movement on your back, babe.”

“ _Durga_ ,” Carolina’s voice is quiet but firm, reminding him to stay on point.

“Shit, sorry, uh.” The voice in her comm’s speaker sputters a minute, “I mean, movement detected, on your six.”

There’s a silence while she gets into position. Then a hissed whisper through her speaker, “You’re doing great by the way.”

It’s a simple recon mission. The Director said it would be the perfect field test for the AI, to see if it could provide proper real time assistance to the agents and still maintain its duties on the ship. He’d been hesitant at first, but the AI insisted it could handle it. And so far, it was proving it could. It was an easy enough mission, simpler than the briefing in the war room even. Hell, it was easier than playing the ship’s on board computer at chess. (Though he’s also fairly certain she can’t partition off some of her protocol programming like he can. Her loss.) He watches the pieces move across Carolina’s HUD display, can pick out their equipment loadouts, can predict their trajectories as they move. This is the way it should be. This is how he should be utilized, not running ship schedules and calculations. 

The debriefing, if possible, is even easier thanks to being able to upload the info to the Director’s data pad directly. But it still feels like years; what the Director has to go over and read out loud to her, Durga can read in a couple nanoseconds and can already tell them it was a thirty percent improvement on her last recon mission. But they don’t ask. That isn’t his place. There are only a few questions to Carolina to clarify some of the information and how she felt working with the assistance. When she turns to leave, Carolina thinks maybe she saw a faint speck of white light giving her a thumbs up.

North and York are the first to notice her, despite how discreetly Carolina had tried to enter the mess hall. 

“How’d it go?” North ignores how South’s head jerks to the door when he asks. She always seems to _need_ to know where exactly everyone was. Carolina thinks that may not be such a bad thing. She gives a casual roll of one shoulder. 

“About how you’d expect. Not much interesting to report back on, didn’t look like anything important was there.” 

York shakes his head, shoulders North when South is the one to bolster up, “He meant how’d it go working with the A.I.!”

The ship holds its breath. It may as well be a cathedral while it waits for Carolina’s answer. Somehow, they’d unspokenly expected her to lead them, and she’d taken up the position when it felt like no one else would. “That went fine. Kind of weird having it in there at first, but you get used to it.” 

No one is sure how to break the silence. Carolina isn’t sure what they had expected - maybe headaches, or some kind of horror story, or for her to be a broken soul slapped back into her armor - but everything is fine. She’s fine, and no one’s sure what to do with that. Carolina turns to look at each of them, wondering what they’re thinking behind the expressionless visors. 

“Well,” York leans his elbow on the table to look closer, doesn’t even look at South jumping at the break in the silence, “Here I was hoping to be the first in you.” 

Carolina feels her jaw tighten with a retort, fond and exasperated at once, and readies to make some comeback. “ _Well_ , Yo—”

A new voice breaks in, cuts Carolina off and leaves everyone staring. “Look, I would’ve loved to take her out to dinner first, but the Director kinda wouldn’t let me.” 

The team sits stunned again. Carolina looks to one of the hidden speakers closer to the ceiling. “Durga, you know the rules.” The A.I. almost sounds sheepish. Almost. 

“I know. But you guys were talking about me, you think I’m just gonna ignore it?” Almost to pacify them, he uses one of the holo-tables to project an avatar of himself, in green-almost-white light in spartan armor (it’s strong, it’s respected, it’s familiar) to look around at them with. The eyes watching him are almost awe-struck behind the helmets, not that he can tell. He just can tell people are staring and he should either leave or put on a show. He’s breaking so many rules and if the Director finds out, he’ll be in pretty big trouble. But the thing is? Now that he’s here and they know he can talk to them? He doesn’t really care. As long as he can run the ship’s calculations and keep everything running smoothly, what’s a few minutes of partitioning off a portion of himself to come talk to these guys if he’s going to be working with them later. He’s spent years of weeks hidden away getting used to himself, used to the Mother of Invention, what’s expected of him for the sake of protecting these goons. It only feels right to get to know them. 

South is the least interested. “This is what’s going to keep us alive in the field? It’s so fucking small, how the hell will this help?”

“Bitch, sometimes the best things come in the smallest package, and you’ll find out out when I get inside you.” Durga’s voice almost has a smile one could hear, just on the edges of his words. Carolina rubs a hand over her helmet.

“ _Christ_.”


	2. New Dog Digs Up Old Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Church was never told much about his father’s project or what it all entails. He knows a little just from Tex and listening in to some conversations before he got shipped here. The Freelancers are an elite team trying to end the war any way they can. He doesn’t know the exact details. Enough that he can’t just leave, but not enough to be part of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cross country move, two harddrive crashes, one massive reformatting, and two years later: I lived bitch.

“Okay. Okay, just run this by me again.” The annoyance comes through loud and clear in Church’s tone, but Tucker apparently has to keep going anyway.

“Okay, first? You go over there.”

“Dumb idea already, but okay.”

“Then, you start talking to Sarge. He’ll do that anyway since you’re both leaders or whatever.”

“Right. With you so far,” as much as he hates it. Church isn’t sure Tucker can even tell how much he hates it.

“Grif and Simmons will undoubtedly come to mock something he’s said.”

“Yeah, they-,” what started as mild irritation gives way to thought. “They would.”

“So. While they’re out there with you, I sneak in-”

“Tucker.” Any thought he had is gone.

“And raid through their supplies-”

“This is stupid.” The irritation is back in full force.

“And come back with whatever I find.”

Church grits his teeth, hears the way his gloves grind against the metal of his gun as he grips it tighter. He always does those two things at the same time. He really should stop doing that. “And what exactly are you hoping to find in there, _Tucker_?”

“I dunno, some snacks, definitely beer. Hey, you think Grif keeps his porn with the supplies or in his room?”

“I don’t know! Why the fuck would I know!”

It’s always something stupid, ever since he got here. Church can’t stand these teammates, hates the frugal supply drops (just what did his dad expect him to survive on?), loathes any kind of interaction or negotiations with the other team. It’s loud, it’s always hot because the sun never sets here, the whole base is a disgusting mess.  
But he’d still prefer _this_ to his original option of staying on the ship. No. Staying on the ship was never an option for him. Church would rather eat leftovers from Caboose before going back on that ship. 

That doesn’t change the fact that he’d tuned Tucker out about five minutes ago. And now Tucker is staring at him _waiting_. This always happens. They try to occupy their day, someone comes up with a stupid idea and tries to get Church to okay it, Church gets annoyed and tunes them out, and ultimately --

“Whatever. Just do whatever, I don’t care.”

Every time.

* * *

Even after a couple of years, Church still can’t figure out how Tucker manages to make the MREs edible. They’re next to nothing at this point, all the better ones with more substance going to the front line Spartans. The poor saps out here on the edges? Might get lucky to get a packet with actual powder in it. But Tucker always still seems to figure out.

There’s a lot of things about Tucker he can’t figure out if he sits too long to think. Like how, after only being here for an hour, Tucker went to fix something and somehow avoided all their allergies. He always seemed to know exactly the way to make the MREs work for something they could stand to eat. The exact amount of food they needed to feel full. The best way to change the temperature in the base for all of them to be comfortable, despite there being no temperature controls. Church doesn’t know _how_ he does this shit, but Tucker manages to figure it out. 

So despite the sun never changing when his HUD flashes a time that could resemble dinner-time, Church heads back in and like clockwork finds Tucker working in there with their meals.

“Seriously, Tucker, I gotta know what you do to these things.” 

“Uuuh, I dunno, dude, I just do it.”

“Okay but what do you put _in_ them?”

“Do you wanna come do this?”

Church shakes his head fast, “ _Hell_ no, I just wanna know what you do!”

“Well, what’s the point in you knowing if you’re not gonna start doing it yourself?”

Church groans, “ _Ugh_ , fine! Keep your secrets, whatever.” It’s not like Church is curious. It’s not like he’s the leader so he should know what they’re eating. It’s not like if anything happened to Tucker, they’d be stuck eating shitty MREs again. 

“Hey.” Tucker’s voice cuts through the frustration that was already building to a full shout-a-thon. Church quiets, holds on to that irritation in preparation. He’s _sure_ Tucker’s about to make this worse somehow. “I think someone’s coming.” 

That gets Church to drop all the anger. Tucker’s weird premonition bullshit is usually spot on. Another one of those weird things he doesn’t get how Tucker does it, but he can always just _tell_ when someone’s coming. And usually he’ll just say who it is from Red team, but it must be someone else they don’t know. 

_Shit_. 

“Tucker, do you ever listen to yourself. Just fucking say who it is, stop being weird.” 

“I don’t know who it is!” Oh. “If I knew, I would’ve just said so! God fucking damn, dude.” 

Okay, fine, so maybe he just assumed with Tucker’s apparent superpowers that he’d know who it is. And the tone of his voice sounds like he _does_ know something else, but Church isn’t going to push it right now. He’d rather go make sure this isn’t someone coming to fuck over their base.

The sun up top is hot, his suit’s temperature regulator not kicking in just yet with the swift change. Not a cloud in sight to even help with the glare, as usual. If he weren’t in his armor, he’d miss the black suit coming from the cliffs at a fairly brisk pace. Like, who even _does_ that, dress in a black armor and waltz into a box canyon without any head’s up?

Oh shit that’s black armor waltzing into their box canyon without a head’s up.

 _Tex_.

“Oh fuck.” 

She hasn’t started firing yet, so maybe she’s on their side this time. Or maybe she isn’t pissed off at Church right now. Or just maybe he shouldn’t try to figure it out. Instead, he keeps a firm grip on his rifle and tries to keep it casual.

“Hey, Tex.” Casual. Like this isn’t the love of his life. Like Tex couldn’t have him on the ground almost dead in a few seconds and he’d _like it_. “What, uh. What brings you here?”

Tex gets within range and stares him dead on. LIke she’s debating something in her head. “You did. Or did you forget already.” 

Oh. Oh shit, did he? The last few days have been a bit if a blur. Tex shifts her weight, and Church can see in an instant she’s not up for their particular brand of screwing around. He wracks his brain trying to figure out what might have happened recently that warranted _him_ sending a message out and risking himself. 

“Flowers?”

“Oh, were you expecting some? Yeah, lemme just find the nearest flower shop.” It’s an immediate gut reaction, the snark and smartass tone but a second later he remembers. “Fuck, Flowers. Right, forgot already. Got kinda used to him not being here.”

Church had only recently gotten to know the guy here in the Canyon, but he knows he was one of Tex’s teammates before that. A fact he’s remembering quickly now watching Tex’s hands grip around her weapon, a sure sign that someone might be in danger here. And it’s not Tex. 

Her tone is deadpan. “It’s been two weeks.”

Church sort of tilts his head, trying to work out the time on that. He guesses it has been. It feels longer, what with the sun not setting and all. What does the time factor even matter? “So it’s been two weeks. So what? Not like you to come out here to see how things are going.” She didn’t show up those couple of times he almost died, or to welcome the rookie, or those couple of times the rookie almost killed him. Tex heads into the base, Church following after because he got a little caught up but it’s fine. 

“We’re fine, you know. Not that you’re asking about those of us still alive or anything.” 

He stops when Tex stops, just at the entrance to that dumb little galley. 

“I thought you said Flowers died.” 

Tex sounds spooked. She sounds like she’s seeing something impossible, so Church steps in to get a look and all he sees is Tucker trying to coax Caboose to take his helmet off to eat. A few seconds later the issue is clear.

“He did. That’s just Tucker, he said he wanted Flowers’ armor. Something about hating regulation blue or something.” 

A silence fills the small space between them. Church alternates watching Tucker and watching Tex. There’s something there he should know, some piece he’s missing that would make a lot of things make sense, and Tex knows what it is. 

“And Flowers’ body?”

“I dunno? I assume Tucker took care of it. Since he claimed the armor and all.” It’d be stupid not to dump a dead body before trying to use the armor. How the fuck else would Tucker get in it. Tex seems to accept that and turns to leave the same way she came in. “Whoa, hey, where’re you going?”

“I only came to grab his armor, but if it’s being used, then no point in sticking around.” 

Tex is outside again, leaving Church to stare after her. Because that is some weird shit to say you were coming to do. He speeds up to catch up to her, just keeping it short of jogging. 

“Why the fuck would grabbing his armor be that important?” 

Church was never told much about his father’s project or what it all entails. He knows a little just from Tex and listening in to some conversations before he got shipped here. The Freelancers are an elite team trying to end the war any way they can. That their armors _are_ different, special somehow, but he doesn’t know the exact details. Enough that he can’t just leave, but not enough to be part of it. No, his sister took pride in being that useful. She could keep the top of that scoreboard for all he cared for their family dynamics. Instead, he watches Tex stop for a few steps, turning to look at him through that orange tinted visor. 

“It shouldn’t matter if everything’s fine.” She pauses, considering. Her voice is almost, _almost_ concerned. “Everything is fine, right?” 

Church levels his eyes to that black armor, trying to memorize it. She’s leaving this soon. He’s really bad at this kind of thing, with her especially. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.” 

Everything except for the sensation that he should know what’s going on in his own base. Church watches as she puts on the camo, disappearing so he can’t see the way she came in through. Leaves him to wander back to Blue Base and watch Tucker sort of standing still by himself on the roof. Caboose probably ate, and Tucker probably left some for Church. 

No one really asks much about each other here. Caboose doesn’t have to be asked, he just talks about himself constantly. They find out bits about Church every time he goes off. Tucker though? The longer Church is allowed to sit on it, the more he notices Tucker’s comments are more superfluous. There’s never much substance to it. 

“Dude, why are you staring at me.” 

The voice pulls Church from his thoughts. How long had he been staring? It probably looks as weird to Tucker as it does to Church to see that blank orange staring back. He can’t get that thought out of his mind, not now since Tex brought it up.

“What’d you do with Flowers’ body?”

“What?”

“Flowers’ body. In the armor, what’d you end up doing with it?”

“Why does it matter? Not like he’s using it anymore.”

“I just want to know if I need to be on the lookout for walking over a dead body, that’s all.”

“Jeez, don’t worry, Church, I took care of it.” 

Tucker turns to do something else, probably to just put his back to Church he figures. That doesn’t answer his question, nor does it settle the unsettling weight in his gut.

**Author's Note:**

> An idea I've had rolling in my head for a long time now. Thank you so much [eggstasy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/eggstasy/pseuds/eggstasy) for encouraging and nursing this idea along with me. It's going to be a long road, folks, and I cannot at this current time guarantee any kind of regular update schedule but I promise it'll be worth it to stick it out with me.


End file.
